


Crystal Down

by Phrenotobe



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Wing Grooming, crystal down 2: kiss harder, i'm going to write a coda to this later, knight/liege fealty, wing fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phrenotobe/pseuds/Phrenotobe
Summary: It had been six weeks since Tiki's back began a shy reveal of the wings she once had held in her far-off youth. Say'ri, her friend and companion, had promised to tend her.





	Crystal Down

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my proofreaders, without whom I would be unable to deliver this.

It had been six weeks since Tiki's back began a shy reveal of the wings she once had held in her far-off youth. As with all growing things, it took time and strain, and she was taken off the roster while healers kept watch despite Tiki's beleaguered insistence that all was well.  
The growing - even then, that seemed the easy part. The panic that came over others was bittersweet, for she had joined the cause to fight, not to be coddled. She was assigned a room within the barracks, all to herself, and nested there among ragged blankets and cast-away pillows, which were lumpy and flat and spilled the sharp edges of old goose down.  
At first the wings were short and plucked-chicken naked, but soon enough short feathers grew in over the skin and clouded the easily visible bumps of bone and angles of sinew; the pretty ashen fluff of baby birds still safe home at roost.  
Though her rooms were private, as always, Tiki was tended by her closest companion, Say'ri. Tiki held audience with those who needed her – The bright Lucina, speaking with clarity about such problems that preyed upon her conscience, and her father, sweet and dutiful in the way he paid his respects - or the broken Exalt herself, halting and careful as she spoke. Through it all, the daughter of wise queens and noble kings sat behind her, teasing out Tiki's hair to lay voluminous against the nape of her neck, a river of roiling curls that fit to the new angle laid out by the wings themselves.  
The room itself soon blossomed with warmth; Tiki already burned warmer than most even in the colder months, and the addition of the downy wings still growing in strength seemed to kick light and heat out to fill it. Say’ri said nothing about it, although Tiki noticed her silent prayers.   
Tiki found the light of the sun to be agreeable enough that she slept through the days, awake at night instead, when it turned colder. As Say'ri kept watch through the day, it was inevitable that their cycles of rest would fall out of sync. Say'ri usually tried to stay awake regardless of the hour, but had fallen asleep at her post still sitting up, her head dipped in seeming meditation.   
Tiki's eyes glowed yellow in the dark as she fixed them upon Say'ri's sleeping face. She rose to stand and noted the slither of her still-new wings upon the floor. It was a conscious thought to pull them upwards, the weighty drag of them still spread as she moved forward to investigate how deep her companion was in slumber.  
Say'ri was one of the taller women in camp; her reticent nature in human company making her faintly imposing. Perhaps it was the still keen weight of recent sadness, but the company she kept was mainly her own.   
Tiki touched the band across Say'ri's brow, smoothing over it. She let her hand glide down the silk of her straight hair, touching the angle of her jaw and letting the point of Say'ri's chin rest in the palm of her hand as she waited to see if she moved. Even without the gift of Say’ri’s dark eyes being open, she was beautiful, and Tiki found something of a delight in being able to stand so close to Say’ri without the latter’s formal distance getting in the way.  
Sleep had Say'ri fully, or so it seemed, and so Tiki put hands to Say'ri's strong shoulders, knowing full well that if she didn't lay flat, the swordmaster would have an aching back from being fixed in place for the many hours it would take for the sun to rise. It took a short push to lever her over backwards so that Say'ri's head touched down against the blanketed floor, and then Tiki took extra moments to ensure that the back of Say'ri's head (fragile, so much more fragile than her sternness conveyed) was against the divot in the centre of one of the many pillows that scattered the room.  
Tiki knelt by her side, murmuring a slightly less than earnest apology. Say'ri shifted by inches, seeking comfort and turning into the warmth. Her arm curled around Tiki's knees, unknowing, and Tiki didn't seek to halt her. It made her smile, seeing how she reached for somebody without conscious thought. Tiki brushed a fingertip over the remaining dip in Say’ri’s brow, smoothing it out gently.   
Say'ri's face had less of the usual command it held during her waking moments. Indeed, that frown she often had upon it had half melted away. Tiki lifted Say'ri's arm, glad enough that she found her comfortable, and tucked herself beneath it, letting Say’ri’s head stay in her lap. She told herself, as justification, that Say'ri had always been there for her benefit, and would not mind a bit.

\--

Say'ri awoke guiltily in the early hours of morning to the cry of the birds outside, her back on the floor and her chest against furled down and the sharp edges of new feathers freshly grown; the rise of Tiki's hip was under her uncaptured hand from how they’d both shifted in tandem during the night. Her lady liege was nestled into the angle beneath Say’ri’s arm, her cheek pillowed upon the muscle and her fingers clamped onto the cloth of her sleeve. A wing covered them both.  
It was a colder dawn than it had been, and Tiki curled as her wing lifted and coiled to fold away. She turned in three quick little twists of movement to fit her ear against Say'ri's chest, calmed once more by the regular beat of her strong heart.  
Tiki’s movement woke Say'ri fully, and at first, breath caught in Say'ri's throat. She breathed slowly, quietly as Tiki's long ears flicked and pricked to listen to new sounds.   
Say’ri felt movement rather than saw it, her half-open eye blurrily realizing the arc of a wing as it rose again and extended in a stretch. It lingered in warmed air, extending until it furled back into a curl, and then Tiki angled her head to better tuck it under Say’ri’s chin.  
Tiki was warm to hold, a comforting weight that hummed through with what sounded suspiciously like the contented roll of a feline, resonant and satisfied. While Say'ri had woken up abruptly around Tiki whilst on too-long guard, and Tiki took regular naps in her presence, this was a kind of rest and closeness that felt new, too intimate in that moment.  
“My lady,” Say'ri whispered, desperately. She inhaled and then stopped to think, her breath stopping too. She’d just got a lungful of Tiki’s perfume. Tiki just hummed, her lips brushing the tender skin of Say'ri's neck as she opened her mouth to speak.  
“Not yet,” she whispered in return.  
Her wings then coiled and spread, the dusty fluff coming off in scattered pieces as the clean sheen of new feathers showed beneath, in bits and parts – iridescent peacock greens and the bright blue of electric skies, catching the light and then seeming to spill it.  
“In the noble houses of Chon’sin,” Say’ri said with eyes closed and the measured cadence of somebody counting to ten, “It is considered unusual for ladies to be so close to one another and yet not be wed.”  
Tiki only smiled, refusing to budge.  
“In my younger years I spent a lot of time resting with the people I loved. I wanted to be close to them, so I could share their warmth.”  
Silently, Say’ri considered this.   
Tiki moved again, and Say’ri acquiesced, folding her arms at the dip of Tiki’s back, tickled by the fuzzy shed of already-lost dragon down. Mischievous, Tiki actively nuzzled into the triangle of skin at the base of Say'ri's neck. Were Say'ri a lesser guardian, she would have yelped; but instead she quivered, and then was still.  
“Does this mean we are good friends?” Say’ri said, her tone ambivalent. She carded absently through feathers as Tiki’s wings once again folded to settle, shaking the clinging fluff from her fingers.  
“I believe that is what we promised,” Tiki replied.  
“And am I warm?”  
Tiki wriggled to find the most comfortable spot, resting her weight on Say’ri’s chest. She turned her head as Say’ri adjusted the placement of her hands to fit again.  
“Oh yes,” Tiki said, “Very much.”   
Tiki’s mouth curved up with a smile as she found the same politeness even in such close quarter. Despite the strength that Say’ri could count upon to bring to bear, her grip was light and careful - even ticklish, rather than hard or businesslike and firm as others might expect. They were good hands, and safe ones to be held in.  
“I’m sorry to tease you,” Tiki said, “But I’m glad you indulge me.”

\--

If it was noted among Chrom’s army that the rebel dynast they’d found in straits most dire at the harbour had assumed another duty to her prophet, then the company didn’t bother them any more than usual. Each member of Lord Chrom’s elite guard had their own problems, after all, and were occupied by such things that weighed on their minds.   
Even then, the week was not uneventful. Anna dropped by to visit, and then tried to pick up divine down to sell on, finding Say’ri’s ire even before Tiki knew; Two-thirds of the risen that Henry had dismembered to arm himself with had designs to have a reunion with disregard for human slumber and the very sanctity of people’s tents during the night, and every so often Say’ri would be called away for the roster’s rotating orders of business, doing her duties for the rest of camp. For the most part it was still the calm synthesis of divine Voice and guarding acolyte, just as it had always been since her divine power was woke.  
For moments after Say’ri arose she always startled to see Tiki resting in her arms, and usually then tried to be still so as not to disturb her rest. But tucked under the blankets with ragged edges and now serving as a giver of warmth during the night (or otherwise as a convenient pillow - she wasn’t quite sure which, if indeed it was not both -) she always wondered what Tiki intended for their future, and how she understood their relationship now to be. It made her chest ache, a symptom of her vague disquiet.   
Tiki yawned, re-settling against Say’ri’s side again to rest. It was difficult to sleep on her back, for sooner or later, she’d end up feeling a pinch or a stray feather would dig sharply into her skin.   
“You seem under a lot of stress lately,” she mused, “Anything wrong?”   
“Nay, milady. I am at peace.”   
“Your heart is beating rather fast,” Tiki said, and put her hand deliberately upon Say’ri’s sternum. Her fingers spread over Say’ri’s ribs, and Say’ri’s heart thundered ever harder. She closed her eyes, breathing deep to hold her calm.  
“I can feel it... Is anything wrong?” Tiki asked. She sat upright, leaning over Say’ri with concerned interest.   
“i feel sorely teased,” Say’ri said, still on the floor. “Milady, I rest by your side as you wish, but what do you intend?”   
“I see,” Tiki said, and glanced toward the door, “I had meant... well, I had hoped you would infer my wish.”   
Say’ri covered Tiki’s hand with her own to keep it there, and nodded slowly. While she always tried to hope, it was still difficult to believe that she was allowed to do as she wished in the company of her prophet - her friend.   
“Perhaps tonight we can speak freely upon the matter, if it pleases you,” she said quietly, “We are here to care for our company, and today the roster calls me to action.”   
“To fight?” Tiki asked.  
“Aye, and to peel vegetables hereafter,” Say’ri said with an amused little smile, “My skill with a blade must be undeniable.”   
Tiki giggled.   
Say’ri pushed herself slowly upward upon her elbows, so that Tiki might still rest, but found her following the motion.  
“You need not rise with me,” Say’ri said, “Rest as long as you need.”   
“I don’t want to waste the day. Maybe there’ll be a spare spot for me somewhere.”  
Say’ri nodded, reaching for Tiki’s hand once again. She raised it high, as if to touch it to her lips; but faltered before it touched, warm breath instead flowing over Tiki’s fingers.   
“Save your strength,” Say’ri said instead, “Your wings still grow.”  
Tiki’s fingers wriggled. It was ticklish. She prodded Say’ri’s soft mouth with a fingertip as she spoke again. Say’ri didn’t try to move away from the touch.  
“If they’re going to call on you, I might try a sermon. I don’t know how much it helps-”  
Say’ri shook her head.  
“It always will, to those who need it,” Say’ri replied.  
Tiki closed her eyes, leaning on Say’ri’s arm.   
“Will you help me when you come back? It feels like there’s a lot I can’t reach.”   
“I will be as swift as I can then, Tiki,” Say’ri said, “But it will be hours again before we meet.”   
Tiki brought their clasped hands toward herself, until she could sense the warmth of Say’ri’s hand. She could tell that Say’ri sat in place as she did because she was loath to rise and leave, looking for an excuse to stay. Tiki kissed the back of her hand and felt Say’ri’s gasp; the flinch that she knew was nothing to do with revulsion, and opened one eye to watch her.   
“Go,” Tiki said kindly, “You’re welcome to leave as much as you’re welcome to stay. But people will always need you, sometimes more than me.”   
“So you say,” her retainer said, “I will take my leave.”   
Say’ri’s head dipped politely before she left. 

\--

Tiki had a few visitors in the early morning, but after dinner there was little to do other than sleep. Ordinarily she had no trouble slipping into rest, but the day drew on and Tiki’s wings itched and plagued her. The down was beginning to slough off, and there was no angle at which she would be able to reach and remove it.   
Instead, Tiki reached for and rolled the ungainly shape of her dragonstone between her hands. A single use would remove the problem, or else make it manageable. It was usual for wings to appear during times of growth, she knew, and the wings in her tweenhood had been small and easy to care for. This time, she’d have to rely on the kindnesses of others.   
For now, there was nobody close enough to ask, and a small amount of stubborn pride made it unthinkable to leave and find somebody else. She lifted the stone and spoke the word to call power down through it, and felt the uncurling of her form into something larger, like standing up inside something that was a roomier Self.   
The room that had seemed such an easy place to extend in was now slightly too close in a way that could be forgiven. But at least, momentarily, her problem was solved and the itch in her wings had dulled to a soft tickle she could ignore. Tiki bent her neck, nibbling delicately at the fluffy parts of her wings with her teeth. She puffed the feathery dross from her mouth and curled up to sleep, her claws folded neat beneath her chin. 

\--

The day had been long enough that Say’ri envied Tiki’s ability to sleep. Say’ri always managed to stay awake because of some matter or another that dwelled upon her mind, and her thoughts had kept turning over the day, presuming all manner of things that may have happened during her absence. It was distracting and furthermore useless, but it was difficult to tell the voice to be quiet.   
Sayri pushed open the door to the barracks, turning down the hall to the storeroom where Tiki was currently assigned upon healer’s orders. Tiki was in contented slumber, large and awesome as only a dragon might be. Briefly Say’ri wondered if this was where Tiki would rest out for the war, in no ancient vaulted cavern but the rude brickwork of man, but decided to throw out the notion. She could feel her heart beginning to thud in an uncomfortable way; too quick and too hard. She wondered if it might be Tiki’s size - in battle there was no time to consider the scale of the one who flew past you in a rush of wings and gleaming pearlescent splendour. In the end, she decided that it mattered little. She’d solve the problem of fear by ripping it out by the root.   
Tiki lifted her nose from the ground by inches and half-opened one great red eye as she sensed a human presence.   
“Hello,” she said, in a voice that carried that high and breathy quality it always did, filtered through magic with an echo to fit into the minds of those she intended to speak to.   
“I missed you,” Tiki continued. Say’ri remained rooted to the spot, hands hovering over her sword-hilts as if she’d not thought to hold them for confidence but been arrested as a statue instead.   
“Aye, Tiki,” Say’ri said slowly, carefully so that she did not trip and leave a ‘milady’ where her lady might not want it put, “I have missed you too.”   
Tiki’s head tipped so that her nose was pointing down, and focused her eyes over the bridge of her own snout. She was lucky enough that her range of vision had no forward blindness.   
“Am I not the same?” Tiki asked kindly, “Come forward. Touch my nose.”   
Say’ri advanced, though with trepidation in every step, and lifted her hand to put her fingers upon the hard scales. Tiki lifted her nose to press it into Say’ri’s hand.  
Say’ri had met scales and other draconic things before, on a wyvern - upon which she’d first learned to fly. Her steed had many little pits around his mouth and nose, and he’d used them to point toward food or hunt around in the meadows for moles burrowing under the surface. He’d also used that nose to push the stablehands around.   
Tiki’s nose and parts of her chin were pitted too. Her head rolled by inches as Say’ri’s fingers covered them, trying to make new measure of the sensation.  
“Do I hurt you?” Say’ri asked gingerly.  
“No,” Tiki replied.   
Say’ri breathed a sigh as her palm smoothed over the point of Tiki’s nose. Her scales fitted together like interlocking pieces, and Tiki was still incredibly warm, her scales dry and firm to touch. It was a hard, flexible layer over something soft underneath; grooved with deep scratches that ran over more than just one scale. The leafy frills at the back of Tiki’s head raised as she relaxed. Not knowing what to do, Say’ri did as she always had; finding the grooves between the scales and gently scratching them with one hand, her other on the flat of a draconic nose.   
Seemingly bored with Say’ri’s silent contemplation, Tiki tilted her nose up to gently push against Say’ri’s side. The gesture caught her by surprise, and Say’ri put up her other hand to brace herself and not be knocked aside by the weight. It was all familiar, strangely so, and knowing Tiki, seeing her in both guises and managing to be so casual with her was a strange feeling.   
“You’re not afraid, are you?” Tiki asked.   
Say’ri shook her head slowly, and put her hands once more upon Tiki’s nose, cautious but firm as she felt along the edges of her mouth with one hand, and stroking tiki along the muzzle with the other. Tiki’s head tipped again, her chin once again perpendicular to the floor, and Say’ri put her forehead to the upright flat of it, closing her eyes to think with greater ease. Tiki’s breath brushed her clothes with a long, slow exhale.   
“I see you true,” Say’ri said.  
Tiki’s red eyes closed in a slow and sleepy blink.   
“Both are true,” she said, “I’m the same.”  
“Then I might always see you true,” Say’ri said, “Might I aid you, now that I’ve returned?”   
Say’ri hesitated for what felt like a long time before she laid a kiss on Tiki’s nose, patting the place where her mouth had been. She needed to return the one she’d received that morning.   
Tiki shifted and got to her feet, stretching her limbs and shaking the sleep from them. She lifted her head to extend her neck, and Say’ri let go, looking up at the proud arch of Tiki’s neck and the lower half of her jaw.  
“I need your help with my wings tonight,” Tiki finally admitted, folding her limbs so that her belly once again rested upon the floor, “They itch terribly.”   
Somehow, that was the thing that made Say’ri’s heart be quiet. That she was needed, still, above decoration or an object to tease. That she had a use.  
“Of course,” she said, “Tell me how I might ease you.”   
Tiki’s head lowered, close enough to touch, and Say’ri reached to touch again.  
“One moment,” Tiki said.   
Tiki’s great head vanished from Say’ri’s reach, with a rush of air that brushed her clothes as the light shone out and then dimmed. Tiki was there once again, small and sweet, those great feathers aglow where they showed in the gaps of the down that covered them. They’d grown bigger, longer, and the longest feathers looked to be greater in size than even a human arm.   
Tiki reached up and gently tugged at a piece of fluff above her head. It came loose, showing off the feathers underneath that were prime and ready to go.   
Say'ri's palm put to the dip of Tiki's back, shifting upward between the wings, hand soon enveloped in cloudy fluff. It was light – ticklish to her skin too, and clung to the fibres of her clothes, hooked itself into the gaps between her fingers.  
She lifted her other hand tentatively, to card through the feathers that furled close to Tiki’s body, and pull away more of the down that had served purpose. It now needed taking away, but for all of Tiki’s best attributes, she couldn’t bend to the degree needed to maintain her own feathers.  
“Tell me how I might aid you best,” Say’ri said, trying to follow the grain of how the feathers ran, slowly feeling out how it was arranged in order to better help upon a second attempt. The wings flashed like deep emeralds and charming sapphires, warm under her hands.   
Tiki muted a sigh with her hand, saying little else. She pressed her fist against her lips, rolling her shoulders. The wings furled to a close and extended wide again.  
“I think you’re doing excellently,” Tiki said, and leaned back toward Say’ri’s touch.   
“Thank you, Tiki,” Say’ri said, trying to avoid thinking too much. Tiki’s wings were beautiful, but it was not an easy job. Scales on Tiki’s back would catch tiny pieces of down that needed to be picked off specifically, and Say’ri had to lift up onto her toes to reach the highest arches.   
“Do you have any idea how this came to pass?” Say’ri said, finally able to settle and deal with the remainder that had collected around Tiki’s shoulder blades, where the joint met the skin of her back. She worked slowly, carefully, pausing now and again to remove fluff from Tiki’s hair where it landed.   
“I’m growing older all the time,” Tiki said with a little laugh, like she expected a comment on how it was never obvious, “This happened once before, when I was still very young... Although they were much smaller then.”   
Say’ri hummed a note to show she was listening, and moved Tiki’s hair forward over one shoulder so she could manage the last parts of the job. She dug her fingers into the joint, hearing a corresponding sigh, and hastily lifted her hands.  
“Did I hurt you?” she asked.  
Tiki’s wings lowered and folded, and she turned to face Say’ri, the colour bright in her cheeks.   
“I think I shouldn’t ask any more of you,” she said, “You’ve done so much.”  
“But I can finish-”  
Tiki took Say’ri’s hands in hers, and leaned forward, tilting up her chin.   
“Milady, ‘tis not quite the time-”   
“My name is Tiki.”   
Say’ri nodded, silently.  
“We said we would talk about it, didn’t we?” Tiki said.   
“But not this,” Say’ri objected, her voice then dying in her throat as she tried to explain it.   
“I don’t want to tease you,” Tiki said, “I just want to be clear.”   
“I do not yet understand,” Say’ri said.   
Tiki chuffed a breath through her nose.  
“Kiss me, please.”   
“Kiss you..?”   
“I want it very much. Surely, you can?”   
Say’ri measured up Tiki anew, and nodded like she’d figured out a plan to solve it. She knelt, and raised Tiki’s hands, kissing each palm in turn. Tiki’s fingers curled inward, touching Say’ri’s face.  
“That isn’t what I meant,” she said.  
Say’ri only laughed, her head dipping.   
“I’m serious,” Tiki said, but she was laughing too, and she knelt to look up into Say’ri’s face.   
“Here,” she said, pointing to her mouth, “Just here.”   
Say'ri had next to no practical experience, but she’d read about kissing extensively. Whatever her books hadn’t given, her fertile imagination had supplied - and far more than once. And if her imaginary beloved had been clothed in red or blue or in aught but feathers, it mattered not.  
Say’ri tilted her head and tried to aim a kiss at Tiki’s face. She managed to touch her mouth, but the feeling was so soft and so strange that she had to try a second time. She chanced a glance at Tiki, and saw her smiling. A shaky laugh left her lips.   
Tiki took Say’ri’s jaw in both hands, and tilted it up, close enough that Say’ri could feel the warmth of Tiki's breath upon her face, close enough to make her chest ache with feeling. Say’ri closed her eyes, and tried again. Kissing was wonderful, she thought, and she’d like to do it a thousand times until she’d perfected it, and a thousand times again.   
Though her eyes were closed, Say’ri thought the room had turned dark, and opened her eyes. Tiki’s wings were spread and were closing around them, locking them into a secret and private space. Tiki was glowing from the scales that Say’ri had found earlier, green-pale in the dim. Even though it was odd to see, she wasn’t afraid.   
“Is this the right time?” Say’ri said.  
Tiki nodded, and softly pushed a lock of hair behind Say’ri’s ear.   
“Kiss me again,” Tiki said, “I want it, very much.”


End file.
